Thirteen
by Skullz2k7
Summary: This is how all the ghosts died and what there lives were like.


**The Bound Woman's**

Well, most of you know the story of me, most of you know what I did in that house, but I will still explain, there are things that Cyrus, and the people on the internet didn't cover. I am the spirit of Susan LeGrow. But in death, I'm known as The Bound Woman. My ghost, and twelve other ghosts, are different from the rest of them. We are all symbols of the black zodiac. I lived a good life, I'm probably one of the only ghosts out of us 13 that did. I was "born in 1969 with a silver spoon in my mouth." That's fancy talk for rich. My parents were the richest people in town, and that made me the most popular girl at school. The head cheerleader, great grades, a scholarship, but I didn't want to go to college. I wanted to stay and marry Chet Walters. The way I treated men is what caused me to death. My highschool years were spent flirting with whichever guy I chose, and toying with their hearts. This created a lot of broken hearts, and a lot of boys hating each other, and hating me. In my Senior Year, me being the head cheerleader, I dated the star of the football team, Chet Walters. Just a typical 80's teenhood. Your casual Beverly Hills, 90210 show. The 80's were fun. I had a secret relationship with Billy Bob Webber that whole year. He was a real sweetheart. We kept it a secret, he even knew about Chet. So my Senior Year was great. But the Senior Prom, was not. Well I had a beautiful pink dress, and if you've seen 13 ghosts, it didn't look as ugly and messed up as it does now. Chet came at my house, and took me to the dance. Then all of a sudden, he disappeared, nowhere to be seen. I was starting to get tired of him acting like this, I wouldn't be in Highschool anymore, so I was thinking about breaking it off with Chet and just going with Billy Bob. When they announced me as prom queen, it was no surprise, but Chet wasn't even there for me. I thought he just had left, none of my friends had seen him in a while, so I thought I could have the last dance of my school years with Billy Bob. Highschool rumors? No more. We were graduating. But my luck ran out, when I looked over at the doors, and saw Chet standing there. Watching me, and him. He was very upset, and he broke it off. Everyone was watching, I felt embarassed, but in a way, happy. Me and Billy Bob were the last to leave the dance, because he took me through the school halls, and apologized for everything that happened. I told him it was over with Chet, and I wanted to be with him. I was done with the "slutty Susan." But after we left, Chet was out there waiting. He tied me up so I couldn't escape, and I could barely watch as he murdered Billy Bob. I don't know where he found that club, but Billy's body was battered to death. Then he walked over to me, and took his tie off. I was already crying, my arms were tied behind my back, as he threw his tie around my neck, holding it tight, leaving me unable to breathe. He was strangling me. I fought it as hard as i could. Shaking really hard, almost as if I were having a ceisure, my hard shaking, and his brute force, ended up in me breaking my neck, and I died.

So many years go by and I'm just a free spirit doing my free things. Until a money-hungry-geezer decided "Hey lets capture the 12 black zodiac ghosts. I think this chick here would be a good choice as The Bound Woman. So they put on these latin spells... and I realized for the first time... I understood latin.

Now I'm captured and taken to this house... and there's 11 other ghosts there eventually. Some of them really interested me. I have something to say about all of them.

Billy Michael- He's so cute!  
Jimmy Gambino- The first time I saw him...I was a little ehh.. but after I got a good look at him, I fell in love. He's cute. I noticed him because it seemed everywhere I went in the house, he was always around me.  
Jean Kriticos- I understand that she wants to be a good mother... but still I can't stand her! I mean come on... just let me have a little fun!  
Royce Clayton- He's funny. The way I'd see him sitting on top of his car holding his baseball bat trying to be a model made me laugh. But I can get along good with people like him- Those who have a high opinion ofe themself; in other words- conceited people.  
Dana Newman- She's seriously one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. And she's nice! And I believe she's taken.  
Isabella Smith- I've seen this woman around... and I wonder how a woman of age like her has the strength to run around and run into glass again?  
Harold and Margaret Shelburne- These two are just disturbed. The woman feeds her obese kid still! Maybe she doesn't realize ghosts don't need to eat? She should realy quit feeding that 500 pounds of lard and start feeding herself!  
Ryan Kuhn- Ahh I love this guy. He would run around that house and laugh... it was hilarious watching him beat that Kathy girl's ass! I mean really.  
Horace Mahoney- He's got some abs on him! mm-mm-mmm! Could have been my body guard! Here's my little profile.

**The Jackle's**

The Jackal was the ghost who was mentally insane. He was born in the 1800's by the name of Ryan Kuhn. As he grew, he enjoyed attacking women i would say something along X-rapest. He wanted to cure his appetite so he turned himself in to the Borehamwood Asylum. There he stayed locked in a padded room, and went completely insane. He scratched at the walls so horrificly, his fingernails were completly torn off. The doctor's kept him in a straight jacket at all times, in which he chew through eventually. So the doctors locked his head in a cage, a put him away in a dark basement cell. There, he hates any form of human, whenever approached by people, he would scream madly. When a fire broke out in his wing of the asylum, everyone there buy Ryan escaped. He chose to stay in on it and burn to death. He didn't want to live like that any longer.

**The Torso's**

My name is Jimmy "The Gambler" Gambino. Now known as, The Torso. I got my nickname "The Gambler" because I was a gambler. It was my life and death. My father was a bookie. I am not 100 years old. I'm only 25. I was born in 1900 and died in 1925. Since I'm dead, I do not age. So for the past 86 years, I've been 25 years old. I never had an education. Instead, I spent my days at the track. My nights were spent gambling at bars. I became a bookie myself. I was unable to turn down a bet! Some have said I'd bet my wife and kids if I had any, and they were right. Which was why I didn't date. When I would lose bets, I barely covered my pay-offs. It was a habit I couldn't get out of. A man named Larry made a bet with me in a boxing match. I lost the boxing match... Larry came to collect his money, but once again, I didn't have it. How the hell was I supposed to know I was about to be in pieces?! Jimmy chooped me into pieces, wrapped me in cellophane, and dumped me into the ocean! So yeah, I died. As a ghost, I enjoyed crawling around in the woods. My goal was to reach the other end. It'd take me years because, I have to crawl, carrying my head alongside me. Sometimes I'd go take a swim in the ocean and some lakes. One day, I almost reached the other side of the woods when I started hearing this latin chanting. It was ordering me to go into some glass. As a ghost, you are forced to follow these spells, so I had to crawl out the woods. There were a bunch of people watching me, they could see me! Turns out there's special glasses made for seeing spirits. There were about six people waiting for me to go to this glass place. I wondered what the big deal was. I had a hell of a time making it in there, but when I did, some stupid old guy shut the door, and I was trapped! I became furious with every one of them. I couldn't try to break out of it, I'm too weak of a ghost. I mean, I was almost to see what was on the other side, then I get locked up. I was taken to this machine which was supposedly a house. There was one other ghost there. A very young child. Then the enxt ghost to arrive was the spirit of a young woman who I became great friends with, known as The Bound Woman. Then, there were twelve ghosts in all, including me that is. One night, a family had moved in the house, unaware there were ghosts locked in the basement inside containment cubes. The old guy Cyrus' assistant, Dennis was the first to know he kept all twelve of us down here in the basement. Then a lawyer came, and he liften up a suitcase holding down these petals, one of which was the machine which would let us all out of our containment cubes one-by-one. So we were all to get out. The first one was The Angry Princess, who nearly stabbed the lawyer, but he got cut in half by two pieces of glass. Then my good friend The Bound Woman right after her was The Withered Lover. The Bound Woman was trying to scare Bobby, the very young son, and The Withered Lover, who was Bobby's mother when she was alive was trying to stop her. Then I got let out of my cube. The Bound Woman terrified Bobby, and he ran into me, where he saw my head struggling, then saw my body crawl, I was trying to grab him, but he was too fast. I just crawled around the house until many hours later, all of us ghosts were called to stand around The Ocularis. We all had to get on our symbol, I was very happy my symbol was located next to The Bound Woman. Then the nanny, Maggie broke the machine, uncle Cyrus got thrown into the ocularis by some of the ghosts. I was not one of them though. Maggie broke the machine worse, and we returned to where we originally haunted. I made it out of the woods, and I saw this cabin. Every night I log on the computer when they go to sleep. So I found this myspace website, where I could come in contact with my old friend, The Bound Woman. During the day time when the people who live here are active, I follow them around. My afterlfie has become interesting.

**The Torn Prince's**

Hmm where do i start, well i'm pretty famous , people know me. My name is Royce Clayton i was born in 1940 i was the star of the local Little League baseball team i was a great player on that team. One day college scouts offered me a way out of my little town due to my mad baseball skills. But some time later some punk ass local greaser challenged me to a drag race and we all know i keep it real. So i challenged him back to this drag race and everything was going good till i lost control of my "little sweetheart" on the second turn and i flipped that baby three times and crashed and burned. As you can see due to that i never got to live out my hopes and dreams to be an inspiring baseball star. I was featured in a movie called "Thirteen Ghosts" and basically i'm pissed off through the whole thing cause of what happened to me.If you want to visit me my remains are buried overlooking my favorite baseball field.

**The Angry Princess's**

This is my story: The Story of the Angry princess: My name Dana Newman I was, without a doubt, quite a sight to behold. My beauty was like that of no other woman and was equally unmatched. Dark brunette hair that shined a golden flow when the bright day's sun hit it. Eyes that seemed to tell endless tales of romance and fantasies. Lips that any man, or woman, would die to have touch their own. My face and skin, so soft like that of an angel's touch, and a body that seemed to match one as well. "Perfect" many would say and they did. But while many gawked at my lushes beauty and enjoyed my company for all I was worth, there was one person who believed that I was not perfect, was not beautiful... horribly ugly; a dreadful face with a body no better that held it on. In fact it was me Dana myself who had came to believe that I was not "good enough", or at less not even coming close to achieving that title itself. Day after day, make up... fancy dresses and gowns... even trying to act more feminine than I already possibly could, nothing seemed to change or enhance the beauty I desired so badly. Occasionally, I'd find just the right dress that made me glow with radiance, or just the right way to put my hair up, or just the perfect shade of lipstick. But the self-satisfaction never lasted long. By the end of the evening, I'd be back to my old ways. Of course, I wasn't beautiful and graceful all the time. Those who knew me more closely and those who lived with me, found a more deeper, distempering side of me. I had an unimaginable temper. I'd throw tantrums without warning, especially when being nagged or instigated by a family member or especially a stranger at an event or party. Being approached by a "well-dressed" man who's simply worn out his welcome; constantly complementing me or making extreme sexual advantaged towards me, wouldn't help the situation or help controlling my temper any easier. I indeed, knew how to take care of myself, as soon the unwelcome visiting male would learn... I would, most of the time, apologize to my family for my fits, but in due time, it was only going to become worse as time went on, the longer I hadn't found what I was looking for... perfection. Comfort was given, but not as easily expected. Being told "I was already perfect" or "beautiful enough" was nothing more than a provoke, an insult to my judgment and dreams. Fuel, that's what it was, fuel that feed me fire. Months down the road, things seemed to have been changing for the better, or at less that's what my family believed. The tantrums were, without a doubt, under control and less than uncommon. But I seemed more distant and to myself than I'd had ever been before. Friends were led to believe I had finally learned to "control" myself and my anger. "But the poor thing must be grieving heavily among the past were her temper took her over. Many disturbing memories, haunting her for the rest of her life. The poor child, it's not her fault." hats what they would say while I sat quietly in my room all alone. A curtained window was right next to my fancy mirror dresser were I sat. The curtains, which were usually wide open with sun shine pouring into the room, were now close for the first time, in a long time I thought to myself. I turned my head towards the mirror, taking another glance at myself, then looking down quickly at my lap instead. Indeed I was pondering the terrible memories I had created for myself over the years. So many bad ones to remember, with even fewer ones to cherish. It had gotten so bad, my temper tantrums, that if I were to be in public during one, I'd storm out of the event, making an obvious "fool" of myself. Apparently though, that embarrassment wasn't enough for me. Some had actually given me my own nickname to match my dreadful personality ... "Beauty the Beast." "How ridiculous" I said to myself, "but I suppose it was a perfect fit... for me" I continued softly. The only "perfect" thing to have came along for my theses past few months. I lifted my head to look about my room as I sat alone. A few cherry wood dressers and a very beautifully designed bed with four long bed post at each corner is all that filled my dark room. I remembered, just then, of a time when I was trying to prepare myself for an evening out. One of the maids had brought in my towels for my daily "beauty bath", as I liked to call it, and laid them quietly on my bed for me. The maid took notice of my frustration in combing my hair, struggling in my preparation. The young maid, with all good intentions of course, would walk up behind me and reached for the brush, already combing down another strand of long, brown hair. Suddenly, my eyes widened with fury as I took notice to the woman's hand touching mine in the reflection of my mirror. I, with all my force, pushed back the woman hard, slamming her to the marble floor. The maid tried scurrying to her feet for fear that I would hit her again. I had already begun cursing vulgarly at her the whole time for even touching me. The young maid began apologizing to me, bowing her head repeatedly to show her remorse, as she laid on her side in pain, but I didn't seem to hear the woman's words. By the time the young maid had lifted her head to apologize once more, she notice my fast movement towards the far corner of the room. All that stood in the distraughted woman's way was a small dresser. On the dresser, dolls and other assorted figures stood placed, and a large purple marble vase neatly placed in the middle... of it. The fallen woman's eyes opened wide with terror as to what the I was planning to do. She pushed even harder against the floor, attempting to gain back to her feet for protection. Her left arm and back were heavily bruised from her fall which she had landed fiercely before. By the time the young maid could refocus on my face again, I was already turning back towards her, the purple vase in hand. She continued to scurrying back with nothing but fear flowing through her veins. My face... it was like no expression she had ever seen before, not even from me, in all her years serving the Newman Family. "Death" was all she could read in my dark brown eyes. Her attention turned back to the vase, too terrified to look directly at me. It didn't cross the young maid's mind that the vase, that I was holding, was of pure marble. It was a stub boring task to clean around during her days of work. How I was able to carry it with ease never hit her, it was unnaturally heavy. The flowers and water that once filled the vase were now poring out all over the floor, as I turned it horizontally to it's side, holding it tight with both hands. I didn't seem to notice the splashing of fresh water and soft pedals against my long dress as the mess covered the floor. I began to lift the vase far above my head, using all the anger and hate as my guide of strength, tossing to large stone across the room, towards the filthy maid, with every intention of it smashing her. The maid, frighten beyond death, took cover with what was left of her right arm. The vase flew across the room at tremendous speed, smashing into the wooden bed post standing tall right next to the frightened victim. The woman, startled to death by the enormous crash, felt only the smooth, warm, water splashing down upon her maid's gown along with small shards of what was left of the vase, now laying shattered all around her, some pieces laying gently on her lap. She was not harm from the assault. "That story seemed like it could go on forever with no possibility of gaining a meaningful ending," I thought to myself. I remembered never seeing that same woman serve under my house hold again. I wasn't sure if the maid had retired after the event, or if she just had dedicated the rest of her life towards "avoiding" me. "If that was the case," I spoke to myself, "then she's doing an excellent job of it." Retirement would have seemed more realistic, but I had no idea what had truly become of her. I turned my head back towards my bed again. I stared at the two towels folded neatly across my well made bed. I stared... I stared for the longest time. Searching my mind for inspiration and life. No such things were found... The bathroom was classically decorated in traditional white. Everything was white. The sink, the shower curtains, the toilet, even the towels I held close to my breast were white as pearl. The only schism of white in the room was the checkered pattern of the large floor tiles, which danced in perfect balance with it's partner, black. I sat on the soft towels on the closed toilet seat and leaned on the edge of the ancient white bathtub to begin drawing my final beauty bath, my last one. "Water... water... the water, it was... it wasn't too cold... but neither was it too hot either," now that I thought of it, if indeed that's what I was doing. "It felt, felt like nothing... airless... water." My thoughts were of nowhere, I was gone. A burning, ripping pain soared over the right of my arm, followed by another, and another, till the burning slits made their way to my other side, tearing the veins in my wrist apart. Across my breast, up and down my entire white, soft torso. New scars soon pilled open just like before. Over and all around my neck, through the right nipple of my breast, and a gash that cracked open far across my wet, sweet face. With every new blow, an eruption of gore came flying out within. The warm, thick liquid gushed across my small body every which way. I fell back into my resting position, staring down at my own distorted body, as I felt my eyes go black.The bathroom, everything in the bathroom was now red. The shower curtains were drenched. The towels, which laid scattered tastelessly across the floor, were soaked in rust. The large tiles on the floor no longer danced alone in harmony with their partner black, but were now joined by two new partners... red and brown. Drenched with red, and what lied inside, was red as well. In all the commotion, it was really uncertain who had discovered My nude body first. One of the servants, or maybe my own parents. Beauty; even in death, I was still the most radiant person anyone could have laid there eyes upon. Even with my pale white, frozen looking skin. Even with my hair stained in dry blood. Even with my skin zipped open in more than a few disturbing places, showing the world what was inside. And my eyes, which were once brown, now blacker than the world's purest obsidian stones itself, I was still, still like no other. Pure beauty, I had it all along, but never knew it for my own... Epilogue to a police report: Not until my body was removed from the bathtub hours later, was the "murder weapon" found. I had been apparently lying on top of it during the hours of my death. A classic chef's butcher knife. They assumed that I must have snuck down to the kitchen late one night, while everybody was sleeping, and stole it from the cook's collection. When the cooks were asked about it, they explained that one of five chef knifes had been missing from the utensil counter. That was more that two weeks ago, they stated. I had kept the knife rested in-between the set of towels that laid on my bed, were they concluded, I had forgot about it...

**_1. The First Born Son_**

Life-- Little Billy Michaels loved to dress up like his heros, the cowboys on TV. The Seven year old never listened to his mother and his father dubbed him "Billy the Brat." But his parents never disciplined him and little Billy always did just want he wanted. And now Billys sorry that he never listened to his mom, who suggest that he not play Cowboys and Indians with a real bow and arrow and that he not shoot the arrow straight up into the air the way that his buddy Danny did.

Death-- Billy was shot in the head by a bow and arrow. He looks like an average child, except for the arrow sticking out in the middle of his forehead

**_2. The Torso_**

Life-- Jimmy "the Gambler" Gambino never learned his lesson. A constant gambler, he always had a knack for landing on his feet. "Larry "3x" always warned Jimmy not to get over his head, his head, his head, But the Gambler didn't listen and he lost his shirt in a big poker game with a made guy. He would have bet his wife and kids if he had any, but since he didn't, the Gambler ran off, welching the bet. The mob caught up with Jimmy and made an example of him. Actually several small examples, wrapped in cellophane.

Death-- Jimmy was cut up and arms, legs and head have been severed from the body. His head accompanies him, covered with cellophane.

**_3. The Bound Woman_**

Life-- The envy of every girl in school, Susan LeGrow was the prom queen and a cheerleader. She won an acadamic scholarship to a state collage, but decided to stay in town and marry Chet, her high-school sweetheart. But the after-prom party turned into a nightmare when Chet caught Susan in Billy Bob's arms. No one really knows what happened last night, but a week later they found Susan's body buried beneath the football field's fifty-yard line, strangled to death.

Death-- Susan was strangled and buried. She is still wearing her Prom outfit, with a tie wrapped tightly around her neck. It's completly twisted and red.

**_4. The Withered Lover_**

Life-- She was a loving mother and wife. Outgoing and smart, she was everybody's favorite PTA mom, she devoted all of her time to her family. Her husband loved her and her kids adored her. Although her daughter grew up too fast, she wanted her son to remain a child forever. When the freak accident occured, she died while racing to save her kids, her dreams of a happy home snuffed forever.

Death-- Jean Kriticos burned to death. As a result, half of her body is completly burned, as she still wears her hostpital gown and pulls an IV drip behind her.

**_5. The Torn Prince_**

Life-- In 1953, Royce Clayton was Valley High's baseball superstar, wearing his letterman jacket everywhere he went. Everything was handed to Royce on a silver platter and he felt untouchable. But this cocky James Dean wannabe went too far one night. He challanged the local greeser to a drag race and thought he had it in the bag. But he didn't break in time and ended up the star of a fiery wreck instead, never to crack a bat again.

Death-- Royce died in a car crash and his entire body is mutilated. He wears his letterman and carries a baseball bat.

**_6. The Angry Princess_**

Life-- Dana Newman was a psycotic beauty who never believed she was beautiful. Always searching for perfection, not a single strand of her hair could be out of place. Famous for her insane tantrums, they called her "Beauty the Beast." Finally giving up on perfection, she took her last beauty bath and slashed her own wrists. When they found her, they said she remained as gorgeous in death as she had been in her wasted life, despite being covered in hundreds of self-mutilating slash marks.

Death-- Dana killed herself, slicing her entire body before actually cutting the wrists. She is completly nude, wet and carries a knife.

**_7. The Pilgrimess_**

Life-- Miss Isabella Smith was a young lady without a family who decided to take the journey from England across the Atlantic to the new colonies in 1675. But once she settled in a small New England town, her separatist ways isolated her from the tight-knit townsfolk. When the town's preacher accused her of witchcraft, she denied it as a matter of course. But the town turned against her, much livestock had mysteriously died that month and only a witch could work such magic, so Isabella was sentanced to death in the stocks.

Death-- Isabella died of starvation most likely and her hands and arms are barracaided. 

**_8./9. The Great Child and The Dire Mother_**

Life-- Margaret Shelburne was a shy woman who could never stand up for herself, probably because she was only three feet tall. She was imprisioned by a band of gypsy lumberjacks, and forced to live in a cage as their freak show version of entertainment. But her secret union with Jimbo, the man they said had the "iron swing" with his mighty axe, produced a pride and joy, her giant 300LB son, Harold.  
Harold was spoiled and smothered from infancy by Margaret, who raised him to be her protector and to carry out her vengeance on the gypsy lumberjacks who imprisioned her. Harold took Jimbo's axe with a passion and was soon destroying rows upon rows of giant redwoods. But he soon graduated to human lumber, yelling "timber" everytime he chopped a gypsy lumberjack at the roots. After Harold sliced his way through camp, both mother and son were finally killed by a torch-waving mob that wanted to put Harold through the wood chipper. But despite repeated attemps, the mob couldn't manage to stuff his giant body into the chute.

Death-- Both were killed by a mob. Margaret's girlish dress cannot hide the rotting skin on her face, where as Harold, wears nothing but a diaper and bib, vomit covering it.

**_10. The Hammer_**

Life-- George Markley was a happy, honest blacksmith in the 1890's, until the local townspeople wrongfully accused him of stealing and drove him out of town. Engraged, George snapped and tracked down the ten people responisble and hammerd them to death. The townsfolk finally captured him and dragged him back to the blacksmith shop, where he recieved a brutal form of frontier justice, his captors drove nails into his body and chopped off the blacksmith's most prized possessions, his hands and left them out for the crows to pick over his dying body.

Death-- George was tortured to death due to hammering and nailing. He is covered with them and has blood all over.

**_11. The Jackal_**

Life-- In 1908, Ryan Kuhn was a deeply disturbed psycho patient of Borehamwood Asylum. He was locked up because of his insatiable appitite for women, specifically for attacking and biting them. After years of unrelenting imprisionment with his arms streched back in a straightjacket and his body twisted gotesquely, his limbs grew horrid in shape. He hated any kind of human contact and was revolted if anyone came near. When a fire broke out in his wing of the Asylum, everyone but Ryan escaped. People still talk about how he ran away from rescuers shouting "keep away!" He prefered instead to face a fiery uncertanintly, then to let anyone touch him.

Death-- Ryan was burned to death. He wears a cage over his head, his long hair, eyes and teeth a main scare factor. He still wears the straightjacket.

**_12. The Juggernaut_**

Life-- Breaker Mahoney was a massive, seven foot tall serial killer. Horribly disfigured, he towed stranded motorists back to his junkard and brutally murdered them, he would litterly rip them apart with his bare hands and 'break' them into as many pieces as possible. When the local authorities finally tracked him down, the immensely powerful murderer was impossible to sebdue physically. But as Breaker ultimately discovered, all men are 'breakable' and he bit the dust when the cops pumped him full of lead.

Death-- Breaker was shot to death by cops. His body is covered with bullets, bood and holes.

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_13. The Broken Heart_

Life-- Arthur Kriticos's life was wonderful until his wife was killed, then it went downhill. Life sucked. He found out though, that his uncle Cyrus died and gave all of his belongings to him, including the house. Since Arthur's heart was crushed, he was chosen to become "The Broken Heart."

Death?-- In order to become "The Broken Heart," one must kill himself willingly out of love. Once all Thirteen Ghosts are created, the "Eye of Hell" will open up and Cyrus will become the ultimate being... But Arthur never does die, and we never get to see what his ghost would look like, nor does Cyrus win.


End file.
